


Routine

by triste



Category: Hetalia: Axis Powers
Genre: Alternate Universe, Drabble Collection, Fluff, Humor, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-11-21
Updated: 2012-11-21
Packaged: 2017-11-19 05:13:55
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 7
Words: 15,485
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/569500
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/triste/pseuds/triste
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"That’s why you do weird and kinky stuff together in the student council room.”</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. One

Title: Routine  
Author: Triste  
Fandom: Hetalia  
Pairing: Greece/England  
Rating: PG  
Warnings: AU (Gakuen Hetalia)  
Status: Complete  
Disclaimer: Not mine

~~

The weather recently had been bad, with lots of rain and grey skies. It was nothing out of the ordinary for England. He actually found it familiar and somewhat reassuring. He was used to rain. It was why he always made sure to carry a small green foldable umbrella around with him wherever he went.

The rain, however, brought an unexpected guest. Greece had taken to frequenting the student council room over the past few days, not to help as England initially anticipated, but to sleep.

“It’s quiet,” he said when England, exasperated, demanded to know what business he had. “And dry.” Greece paused for a moment. “Nobody ever comes here. It’s a good place for a nap.”

“*I* come here,” England told him. “This is where I work.”

Unfortunately, there wasn’t much point complaining about the unwanted company. Greece, laid back and easygoing as always, rarely took offence. The only thing guaranteed to rile him up was Turkey’s presence, or even the mere mention of his name.

Since England had no intention of dealing with a Greece that was foaming at the mouth over his mortal enemy, he decided the best thing to do would be to let him sleep. He wasn’t being noisy or obstructive about it. He didn’t snore or drool, or mumble. If England didn’t glance up from the papers in front of him every once in a while to see Greece slumped over the desk by the window, folded arms serving as a pillow for his head, he would have no idea his fellow student was in the room with him.

Still, it would have been nice if Greece would make himself useful once in a while instead of lounging around like an oversized cat. The more mundane tasks, such as printing and filing, were the ones England tried to fob off to whoever crossed the threshold.

France was a lost cause. The vice president rarely showed his face when there was work to be done. He much preferred to roam around the campus and prey on whichever poor soul had the misfortune of straying into his path. He wasn’t cut out for manual labour, he insisted. Not that there was anything strenuous about sorting out the student council’s ever growing pile of paperwork, but France took great care in avoiding it anyway.

Seychelles was more reliable, if a little more foul mouthed, but the arguments that tended to spark between her and England were too distracting. It was difficult to get things done while they were busy screaming insults back and forth, and England had never been a fan of multitasking. He took pride in his work, and mistakes were seen as a source of embarrassment. As such, attention to detail was essential.

Besides, once England became absorbed in something, it was nearly impossible to disturb him. The hours ticked by without him noticing, and it was only once he’d finished that his stomach started grumbling. It served as a reminder that, yet again, England had skipped lunch. He checked his watch, and was relieved to find that it wasn’t too late to get dinner at the cafeteria.

England wondered if Greece had eaten anything. He seemed to nod off an awful lot. Maybe he wasn’t narcoleptic but anaemic? That would certainly explain why he spent more time asleep than awake.

England shook his head. No, he was overcomplicating things. Greece didn’t look like he was lacking in vitamins and iron. Rather, he was the picture of male health, and England had seen him in his gym uniform enough times to know.

Blushing, England shut off that train of thought right there and then. It would sound as if he was ogling otherwise.

Sighing to himself, he went to fulfil the last of his duties by waking Greece before he could turn off the lights and leave. As expected, Greece continued to slumber.

“Hey,” England said gruffly, shaking Greece by the shoulder. “Wake up.”

Greece didn’t stir, so England shook him harder. Finally, Greece grunted and stirred, taking England completely by surprise when he raised his head, turned it to the right, and nuzzled it against England’s belly. England tensed all over, his face now flaming red as Greece opened his eyes and peered up at him.

“Good morning,” he greeted.

“It’s evening,” England replied, teeth gritted. “Unhand me this instant.”

Greece blinked. He appeared to be confused. He didn’t move away from England immediately but he did glance out the window. “It’s still raining,” he observed. “And it’s dark. When did that happen?”

England was too tired and annoyed to snap out the most obvious answer, that Greece had been asleep and thus had no idea about the occurrences the rest of the world happened to be experiencing.

Instead, he said, “It’s getting late.”

Greece nodded. “Home time?” he asked.

“Home time,” England agreed.

Because Greece hadn’t brought his own umbrella, they were forced to share England’s. It was only big enough for one person, and was a bit of a squeeze to fit the pair of them underneath it as they made their way back to the dormitory.

It made England feel uncomfortable, being so close to someone like this. As it was June, they were both wearing the summer uniform. The short sleeves of his shirt made it all too easy to feel the warmth of Greece’s bare arm brushing against his. He tried to make his mind go blank, to think about anything other than Greece’s proximity, so England concentrated on the pitter-patter sound of the rain against his umbrella, on the ripples that his footsteps left behind as he drew closer to the dorm.

Then, just as England thought he’d managed to tune out his companion enough that he wasn’t quite so conscious of him, Greece spoke.

“Japan once told me that two people who share the same umbrella to walk home with are lovey-dovey,” he said conversationally.

“We are not ‘lovey-dovey’,” England snapped, blushing yet again, unhappy that his attention had been drawn back to the one thing he’d been trying to hard to ignore. “It’s a matter of convenience. And because I’m kind enough not to let you get drenched, of course. That’s why we’re sharing. Don’t go getting the wrong idea.”

“Love is nothing to be ashamed of,” Greece stated.

England’s blush deepened. “I never said it was!”

“You don’t have to shout.”

“I’m not shouting!”

Now on top of being flustered, England was irritated. Greece wasn’t perturbed in the slightest. He merely continued to regard England with a mild sort of interest.

“Watch where you’re going,” England muttered, avoiding Greece’s gaze. “And stop staring at me while you’re at it.”

Greece placidly turned his gaze back to the path ahead. He looked contemplative. England wasn’t sure if that was good or bad. Greece was so spacey England sometimes forgot how much intelligence was hidden behind those half-lidded eyes. Greece was a thinker, a philosopher. He often knew more than he let on.

It was almost a relief when they reached the dorm. England shook the rain from his umbrella before folding it carefully. Greece was watching him again. England wished he wouldn’t.

“So,” Greece said, oblivious to England’s unease. “Same time tomorrow?”

“I beg your pardon?”

“Tomorrow,” Greece repeated patiently. “Same time.” He gestured to England’s umbrella. “Walking home together.”

“Don’t make this into a regular routine,” England warned. “And stop using the student council room to sleep in! It’s annoying!”

Greece nodded, apparently satisfied. “Tomorrow it is, then.”

He turned and left. England didn’t even get the chance to argue. Somehow he had the impression he should have been angry, but strangely he wasn’t. England scowled anyway though, because it wasn’t fair for Greece to decide everything on his own like that.

“Hmph. Lovey-dovey, my arse.”

 

End.


	2. Two

Title: Invitation  
Author: Triste  
Fandom: Hetalia  
Pairing: Greece/England  
Rating: PG  
Warnings: AU (Gakuen Hetalia)  
Status: Complete  
Disclaimer: Not mine

~~

America was the first person to comment. His complete and utter lack of tact, not to mention a tendency to blurt out whatever was on his mind at that particular moment, be it embarrassing, offensive or otherwise, never failed to make England’s blood pressure soar.

“Yo!” America called cheerfully, pulling up a chair beside England uninvited. “I hear you and Greece are getting it on?”

England choked on the tea he’d been in the middle of drinking. It took almost a full minute of coughing and wheezing before he could grace America with a reply.

“What did you say?”

“You and Greece,” America announced, smirking. “Doing the dirty. That’s what everyone is saying. The rumours are all over school.”

“What rumours?” England demanded.

“You know, the one about you guys walking home together every night. Oh, and then there’s the one about you getting up to weird and kinky stuff together inside the student council room. There are more besides, each one more sordid than the last.”

America seemed to find it all very amusing. England failed to find any humour in the situation whatsoever.

“I see,” he said, impressed with himself by managing to stay so calm. “And who, pray tell, has been starting these rumours? Which, may I add, are completely unfounded.”

America shrugged. “Dude, that’s like asking which came first, the chicken or the egg. People gossip. It’s human nature. Anyway, forget about that.” His smirk returned as he poked England’s cheek insistently. “They’re all true, right? You don’t have to deny it. I know that’s what you do best, but the truth will always out. Hide it if you want. It won’t help you any. Besides, I love a good conspiracy theory.”

England was well aware of this fact. The more ridiculous and absurd said theories were, the more enthusiastic and passionate America became about them. His unwavering belief in the existence of extra terrestrial life was proof enough. Still, England couldn’t ignore the problem he was faced with. He had no idea he’d been the conversation topic of choice as of late, but then he tried to mind his own business and stick to his own devices. Idle gossip was beneath him. He didn’t have time to waste on such indulgences.

And so, he composed himself enough to look America straight in the eye and say, “I assure you there is nothing untoward between Greece and myself. If these rumours persist in continuing, I shall be forced to sue for slander.”

America looked disappointed. “Really? But it is true that you guys have been hanging out, right?”

“Yes,” England replied hesitantly, unwilling to give too much away. “That is correct.”

“Then you’re sleeping together, aren’t you?”

England’s patience was on the verge of running out. “Please, inform me how you succeeded in reaching this conclusion? You said it yourself. The two of us have been ‘hanging out’. That’s what friends do, is it not?”

“You don’t have any friends,” America pointed out. “You only have enemies and sex slaves.”

England’s right eyebrow twitched. “Territories, America,” he corrected. “They are mot definitely not, as you falsely and ineloquently put it, my ‘sex slaves’.”

“That’s what Seychelles says,” America said innocently.

“And Seychelles knows everything about my private life, does she?”

“Beats me.” America went back to poking England’s cheek. “So, you and Greece. It’s a weird combination. What the heck does someone like him see in someone like you? I mean, he’s normal and you’re abnormal. How does that even work? It’s so wack. By the way, Japan gives you his blessing. He thinks you two might actually be good for each other.”

It didn’t matter how much England tried to argue. America refused to accept the fact that the rumours were exactly that, just rumours. Not all of them, of course, since Greece still insisted on using the student council room for his naps. He also insisted on walking home with England once his work was finished. That didn’t mean anything, though. There really was nothing between them. Not as far as England was concerned, at least.

~~

Seychelles was the second person to comment. She’d been staring at England so intently it was getting on his nerves.

“If you have something to say, then say it,” England told her, frowning. “And while we’re on this subject, what the hell have you been nattering about behind my back?”

Seychelles ignored the question in favour of mention what had apparently been on her mind. “I just can’t see it,” she said, tilting her head curiously.

“See what?” England said.

“You and Greece-san. How does it work? Is it a case of opposites attracting? What do you two have in common?”

England didn’t answer. It didn’t bother Seychelles too much.

“You’re both male,” she noted. “That’s a start. You both have green eyes. You both have the letter ‘e’ in your name.” She pondered a while longer before adding, “Oh! And you’re both perverts!” She nodded, happy. “Yes, that must be it. People with similar interests will always be drawn to one another. That’s why you do weird and kinky stuff together in the student council room.”

England really wanted the name of whoever had set off that rumour. For some reason, it was the one that tended to pop up most.

“Sorry to disappoint,” he said tartly, “but I can assure you none of this is true.”

“But it seems so believable,” Seychelles replied. “Hungary-san certainly thinks so. She’s been staking out your lair of evil for weeks in the hope of getting a decent shot. Seriously, you should see her camera. It has this huge zoom lens and everything. She spent a ton of money on it. It’s super complicated and specialist.”

The mental image was disturbing. Scarier still was the fact that England had never noticed her around.

“She’s an expert at camouflage,” Seychelles explained when England mentioned this. “She likes to pass herself off as a tree or a bush. You couldn’t tell her apart from the real thing unless you got up close.”

England was aware of Hungary’s preferences, thanks to Prussia. He’d just never known her obsession with boy’s love was so severe. He also made a mental note to keep the blinds shut tight whenever he was in the student council to do his work.

~~

The third and final person to comment was France. England found his company annoying at the best of times, but France was at his most obnoxious when he had something to crow about.

“You finally got laid, eh?” he said, patting England on the head in the same condescending manner he’d used since they were kids. “Big brother is so happy for you. I thought you’d stay a bitter and repressed virgin forever.”

England blushed sullenly. France didn’t need to know his virginity status hadn’t changed, although he refused to accept that he was bitter or repressed. Contrary to America’s belief, he was perfectly normal, thank you very much. His lack of experience meant nothing.

“Never you mind,” he grunted, turning away.

France refused to be perturbed. He merely slung an arm over England’s shoulders and pinched his cheek. It was the same cheek America had been poking so incessantly earlier and was starting to sting from all the abuse. England had the sudden urge to bite.

“Don’t be so grumpy,” France cooed. He was doing it again, talking to England like he was too young and stupid to know better. It made England resent having grown up with him even more. “Big brother approves of your choice! Greece is a fine man. His body his fine, his mind is... well, not so fine, but who cares about that. The point is that he, like yours truly, enjoys strolling around the campus naked! You can’t go wrong with a man who delights in exposing himself.”

Now that England thought about it, he could vaguely remember the event France was referring to. The memory was vague because he’d been fairly drunk at the time (okay, very drunk, enough to have stripped down until he was wearing nothing other than a collar and cuffs).

No wonder the Christmas parties at World W Gakuen were legendary. They always seemed to end with gratuitous nudity and most the participants too paralytic to move the following day or even remember what had happened the night before.

“I’m not dating Greece,” England said.

“Of course you are,” France soothed. “Would you care for a threesome? I’m always available.”

“No, I would not. And don’t go stalking the grade school division just because you’re bored and horny. Sealand and Latvia are still traumatised from the last time you went streaking in their classroom.”

France was getting misty-eyed at the mention, so England steered him back on track.

“Anyway, if you have time to pester me, you have time to be fulfilling the vice president duties you keep neglecting. Why I didn’t replace you with Germany years ago, I have no idea.”

“You can’t get rid of me!” exclaimed France, suddenly panicked. “I need my authority!”

“Then do some bloody work!”

France reacted the same way he always did when under pressure, by making a sharp retreat and leaving the poor sod he’d left behind in the dust along with his problems. It made England fume, but France was famous for being a slippery bastard.

England blamed the elections. He was positive they’d been rigged. There was no other way to explain how someone as useless as France had been granted such a position of power.

~~

England was feeling very fed up indeed when he bumped into Greece. His rational self could admit to Greece having done nothing to deserve the glare England directed at him, but Greece was the nearest available target and England couldn’t help being frustrated.

“I take it you’ve heard the rumours?” he began.

“You mean the one where we do weird and kinky stuff together in the student council room?” asked Greece.

“There are others,” England informed him, “but that seems to be the one that gets around the most.”

Greece pursed his lips. He seemed to be mulling something other inside his head. Eventually, he reached a conclusion. “It’s just gossip. It’ll blow over soon enough.”

“You’re not angry?”

“Only at Turkey. He came to pick a fight and laugh at me this afternoon, so I hit him. He deserved it. But then he hit me back because he’s a jerk.”

When England looked closer, he could see a bruise developing on under Greece’s left eye. There was a scratch above his nose, a scrape on his right cheek, and there were dirt spots on his white shirt.

Suddenly he didn’t feel quite as irritated anymore.

“Come with me,” he sighed, beckoning. “I’m taking you to the nurse’s office.”

“It’s nothing serious,” Greece said. “Turkey got off worse. And I broke his mask. He got mad. It made me feel good.”

England guided him along regardless, and even set about fixing Greece up himself instead of calling for the nurse. As Greece had claimed, there wasn’t much harm done. The scrapes and scratches were soon taken care of, but all England could do for the bruise was to place a cold compress against it.

“Thanks,” said Greece. He sounded surprised and somewhat embarrassed.

“Don’t mention it,” said England. “I can’t stand people who look scruffy.”

They sat in silence for a while. Greece had that thoughtful expression on his face again.

“Are we lovey-dovey?” he asked. “Everyone seems to think we are.”

“So you’re saying that if everyone agrees that a lie is the truth, that’s what it becomes?” England shook his head. “It doesn’t matter what people think. I don’t give a damn.” But he did, or else he wouldn’t be so agitated by the rumours. “Maybe we should stop walking back to the dormitory together at night.”

“Why?” Greece was genuinely upset. “I like it. I wouldn’t do it if I didn’t.”

“But it makes the other students talk.”

“Let them. You don’t care, do you? I know I don’t.”

England wasn’t sure how to respond. He assumed Greece sought him out for simple companionship (and because the student council room was warm, quiet and comfortable, naturally). He’d never considered the possibility of there being anything more than that between them.

He would be lying if he said he didn’t find Greece attractive, because he did. Anyone would. It didn’t necessarily mean he wanted to, well, do weird and kinky stuff with him, or anything else for that matter.

Or did he?

England was confused. He could understand slightly why France called him emotionally retarded.

He wasn’t used to relationships with other people being any different to those he had already. He fought with America, with France and with Seychelles almost daily. That was nothing new. He supposed there were people like Japan, who he could successfully carry a civilised and intelligent conversation with, and maybe Germany, who England held a grudging respect for.

What did that make Greece? Where did he fit in? England couldn’t figure it out.

“Let’s go out,” Greece suggested, startling England out of his musings. “Somewhere away from campus. Are you free this weekend?”

“I suppose,” England said cautiously.

“Then it’s decided.”

They arranged on a time and place to meet up, or rather Greece arranged everything while England nodded, dazed.

He only realised later, when he was alone with his thoughts, that he’d accepted Greece’s invitation of a date.

 

End.


	3. Three

Title: Token  
Author: Triste  
Fandom: Hetalia  
Pairing: Greece/England  
Rating: PG  
Warnings: AU (Gakuen Hetalia)  
Status: Complete  
Disclaimer: Not mine

~~

England’s first reaction to being asked out on a date by Greece had been surprise, then hesitation and finally acceptance. Now, however, things were different. He’d never known preparing for dates could be so stressful and bothersome. It wasn’t like preparing for a normal day of classes, or even preparing for one of the big school events.

The problem was that he had no idea what to do, what to say, where to go or how to act. He and Greece had arranged on a date, time and place to meet up, but nothing more. Who would be expected to take charge and make decisions? Although England was used to that kind of thing, his nervousness made him want to let Greece handle the matter.

England knew it was going to be bad when he couldn’t even decide what to wear. He wondered if a suit would be too formal. Then he thought of Greece and the kind of clothes he wore when he wasn’t in uniform. England had only ever seen him in casual wear, such as a plain tee shirt and pants, which was why he supposed he ought to put on something similar to prevent himself from looking too dressed up and out of place.

Even with that small detail sorted, there was still plenty to keep England occupied. Was it normal to feel this anxious? England couldn’t exactly ask anyone for advice. There was no one he felt close to or trusted enough to ask such a question. For a brief moment he considered writing in anonymously to France’s radio talk show, but he was far too paranoid to do it. France might somehow figure out who he was and humiliate him mercilessly live on air in front of the whole school. Besides, he would rather die than ask for help from France.

Because of his pride, England was getting nowhere. He eventually turned to the internet as a last resort, to see if he could find anything useful via search engines and forums.

He had only been investigating for fifteen minutes or so when the door to his room burst open and America barged inside without bothering to announce his presence, as per usual. England immediately switched his monitor off and turned to greet America with a scowl.

“What are you doing here?” he asked. “And how many times have I told you to knock before entering?”

“Don’t be so uptight,” America said cheerfully. “It’s not like you have anything to hide. You were probably looking at porn anyway before I got here.”

“I was not!” England argued.

“Oh?” America leered. “Then why were you in such a hurry to turn off your screen?”

“Because I’m busy doing private research.”

“For what?”

“None of your business!”

America wouldn’t let England deter him. The two of them struggled briefly before America won the battle and brought England’s monitor back to life. He skimmed the contents of the page England had been looking at, then snickered.

“Stop laughing!” England ordered, miserable and embarrassed.

“But it’s so funny,” America insisted, still much too amused for England’s liking. “I can’t believe you’re looking up information on how to date someone.”

England huffed and shut the computer down altogether while America got himself comfortable on the bed. It had been immaculately made before America seated himself on it, and England’s nose wrinkled in dismay at the mess America was bringing to his neat and orderly oasis.

America, finished with poking fun for the time being, fixed England with a curious stare. “Why are you so worried? It’s only a date. How come you’re making it into such a big deal?”

If England had been honest, he might have answered that he was worried because it was the first date he’d been on, and that he was doing his best to avoid making any mistakes that would leave him looking foolish, but he wasn’t, so he lied.

“I’m not making it into a big deal. You’re just getting the impression that I am, but you’re very much mistaken.”

Rather than bickering back as he normally would have done, America stared in a pitying manner, one that England found rather infuriating.

“What?” England said, suspicious. “Stop looking at me like that. It’s pissing me off.”

It really was. England’s nerves were grated all the more when America leaned over and patted him on the head the same way France did when he was being particularly condescending.

“What you need,” America said, “is a hero. Luckily, there’s one right here in this room. Isn’t that great?”

England failed to see where this conversation was leading. His unimpressed expression prompted America into expanding on whatever it was that he was about to suggest.

“You’ve been invited on a date, right? You’re getting all worked up because you want it to be perfect and memorable and stuff. In other words, you need help. That’s where the awesome me makes his appearance!”

England didn’t get it. For someone who could be almost embarrassingly blunt and to the point sometimes, America seemed determined to draw his grand speech out. He’d always loved blowing his own horn.

“And so,” America concluded, “I’ll give you a simple solution to your simple problem. Make it a double date. Japan and I will come along for moral support and all those awkward moments where nobody knows what to say. It’s perfect!”

A double date? And with America, no less? England wasn’t sure he liked the sound of that. Still, America could be reliable in a pinch. He was good to have as back up when things were tough.

“Maybe,” England said, still not fully convinced. He could see the positives, but he was starting to get the impression that adding more people would make his date with Greece seem like... well, less of a date. And America could get carried away with himself. Most likely he’d make a scene and show them all up. “Wouldn’t it be rather crowded?”

“Ah, see, that’s only the first stage,” America said conspiratorially. “I haven’t told you about the second one yet.”

“Which would be?”

“Only the first half of the date will be a double one. When you feel confident enough to go it alone, Japan and I will leave.” America beamed. “How’s that? Great idea, huh?”

He was obviously waiting for England to pile on the praise. For once, he had succeeded in putting forth an idea that wasn’t completely harebrained, unlike his opinions on what would be the most effective way of reversing the effects of global warming.

“It’s workable,” England relented. “And not completely horrible, seeing as it’s coming from you.”

It was as close to a compliment as England would give. America returned it with a confident thumbs-up sign.

“Don’t you worry about a thing,” he said. “This is going to be brilliant.”

~~

 

Greece was not averse to the changes England made to their plans when he called to inform him about them.

“It should be fun,” was all that he said.

England could only hope that was how the date turned out to be. Nothing was for certain, especially concerning America and his unpredictability.

The four of them met up that Saturday at 10am. England was early, America and Japan arrived together right on schedule, and Greece was ten minutes late. England’s immediate instinct had been to delve straight into a lecture about the importance of punctuality, but then Greece gave him a smile that made his stomach do a funny little flip along with an apology for being so slow, and England turned away before anyone could see him blush.

There was no point agonising over the things that had been bothering him previously. America was in full on ‘I’m the leader, I won’t take any objections’ mode. All England had to do was follow and keep his fingers crossed.

Their first stop was the arcade. It had been America’s suggestion, of course, but Japan was more than agreeable. England wasn’t surprised. He knew how much they both loved video games. England also played them occasionally, especially if they were RPGs or something that demanded more a little more intelligence than the average shoot ‘em up America was so fond of.

He wondered if Greece liked video games. Did he have a favourite? Or did he not care for them that much? England didn’t know. When he thought about it, there was a lot he didn’t know about Greece. The two of them had never even had a proper conversation before. They hadn’t made much progress in their relationship, assuming they had one in the first place.

England tried not to dwell on it as they tackled the first game America decided on, which happened to be a racing one. They took it in turns to race each other, with America against Greece and England against Japan.

Greece turned out to be surprisingly competitive. England wouldn’t have thought it to look at him. He lived life at his own leisurely pace, refusing to be hurried by anyone. America, delighted at having discovered a new rival, challenged Greece to another race while England and Japan wandered off to try a crane game.

One of them in particular caught England’s eye. It was full of plush cat toys. England associated cats with Greece. Greece would probably like it if England won one of them for him.

Then England shook himself, upset by how sappy he’d become.

“They’re very cute,” Japan said, indicating the cat plushies. “You should try getting one.”

England went red. Japan must be a mind reader. He always did have that weird way of understanding other people without the need of words.

“There’s no point,” he said. “These things are rigged. It’s impossible to get what you want.”

“Not necessarily.” Japan moved closer to the glass screen and inspected its contents thoroughly. “There,” he said, pointing to one plush cat towards the back right corner. “I believe that one would be best to aim for.”

Japan sounded like he knew what he was talking about. England could only assume that he did. He was an expert, after all.

England sighed. He was getting soft.

It took him three attempts but, as Japan claimed, England succeeded in obtaining the cat that had been singled out as being gettable.

“Congratulations,” Japan said, clapping his hands with a small smile. “That was most impressive.”

“Not really.” England went to collect his prize. “I’m sure you would have managed to win it on the first try.”

If Japan made caused him to be flustered, though, it was nothing compared to how England felt when he shoved the cat into Greece’s arms.

“For you,” he said curtly. There was no point being flowery and poetic about it. A gift was a gift, no matter how small or seemingly insignificant, and should be accepted with gratitude and graciousness. If Greece couldn’t work that out for himself, then he wasn’t worth England’s time.

Greece smiled. He looked pleased. England’s stomach did another flip.

America spoiled the moment by snickering. England swore and chased him out of the arcade to the sound of Greece and Japan’s laughter.

Their second port of call was for food, but not, as England had anticipated, from a proper restaurant. America was in charge, so he chose McDonalds. England supposed it had been silly of him to expect anything else.

America ordered quickly. The staff knew him personally, but then he did spend half his life there eating. Japan made do with a small order of fries along with a soft drink. England, while not being the biggest fan of burgers, picked one of them anyway, but made sure that it was free from that horrible, plastic-like orange cheese. Greece couldn’t decide what to go for, so America ordered for him instead.

They found a table together and sat at it to eat. Greece ate slowly, taking a bite from his burger and chewing it thoroughly. It was in complete contrast to America who devoured his food like he’d been starved for a week. He slurped at his cola after finishing his second burger (he had another couple of them to go yet), sucking some of it into his straw and trapping it in place with a finger at the end of it.

“Look, Japan!” he said excitedly. “Pocky! Pocky!”

Japan nodded indulgently. “Very good, America-san.”

England felt sorry for him. America pulled this trick whenever he drank anything with a straw. He didn’t understand that jokes were only funny the first time.

Greece, who had been observing intently, mimicked America and looking to England for approval. “Pocky,” he said, though his voice was much calmer and quieter than America’s.

“Er, yes,” said England. “Right. Bravo.”

Greece seemed disappointed by his lack of enthusiasm. England felt like he’d done something bad.

The third place they visited was the cinema. That was when America announced that they were splitting up. Japan and he were to see the newest animation release together, while England and Greece were left to pick out their own movie to watch. After that they would be on their own.

“Good luck!” America mouthed to England as he left.

England grimaced.

In the end, he and Greece went to watch an historical film. England approved of the choice. It was something intelligent and relevant to his interests. It would also give him another two hours to create a plan of what to do once it was over.

The movie was a good one, although England was of the opinion that the battle scenes could have been more realistic. They hadn’t been gory enough for his liking.

It wasn’t even 4pm by the time they exited the cinema. England didn’t know what the usual time dates finished up by was, but he did have the impression it was still early. He was about to ask Greece if he wanted to go for a cup of tea somewhere when Greece spoke up.

“Let’s go for a walk,” he said.

England agreed. Then there was silence. For some reason, it didn’t feel awkward. England jumped when Greece’s free hand (the other was carrying the cat he’d been given) brushed against his. Then he went back to fretting again. Would Greece try and hold his hand? Should he try and hold Greece’s? No, that was stupid. England didn’t like public displays of affection. People being sappy with each other in front of others annoyed him.

Mind made up, he jammed his hand inside the pocket of his pants just in case Greece tried to reach for it.

“It would be nice if we could watch the sunset together,” said Greece.

But that would be hours away. It was summer. Day didn’t turn to night until at least 8pm when the weather was so warm.

“We could do something else instead,” England offered.

Greece shook his head. “Let’s watch the sunset. I like sunsets. They’re romantic.”

England blushed. It was a bad habit that he had to rid himself of. Strolls, sunsets and the mention of romance made it sound like he and Greece were a proper couple or something.

He really was getting soft.

They walked for an hour before coming across a park. Greece found a bench for them to rest on, but England made sure not to sit too close. They talked about books when England discovered that Greece was an avid reader, a topic England could happily discuss at length, about documentaries they’d seen, another subject England appreciated, and music.

England told Greece stories about what France had been like when the two of them were younger (they all made France look bad, of course), and Greece followed it up by going on a tangent about Turkey. England didn’t mind. Complaining was good, especially about antagonistic people.

It was what he’d wanted to do, to learn more about Greece. He didn’t feel so uncomfortable around him anymore. Besides, anyone who didn’t make fun of him for whatever reason, be it his taste in food, his eyebrows or his lack of friends, could only be a person worthy of bestowing his presence.

In a way, being with Greece was strange. England was always so busy and used to spending time alone whenever he didn’t have work to do. Greece made him want to relax. He was gradually learning that taking things easy didn’t necessarily equate to being lazy. Not that Greece was lazy, or that England would accuse him of being so. He studied hard, and his grades were good. Unlike America, who tended to ‘wing things’, as he called it, and cram at the last minute, Greece was much more conscientious. England liked that.

They watched the sunset, and it was as pretty as Greece had promised it would be. England was glad they’d spent the day together. It really had been fun.

It was dark when they arrived back at the dormitory. The air was chillier, too. England was okay in his long sleeves and sweater vest, but Greece was only wearing a white tee shirt. England’s more frivolous side, not that he would admit to having one, made him wish he’d brought a jacket so he could be all gentlemanly and offer it to Greece. Then again, the differences in their sizes considered, it wouldn’t have helped much. Anything of England’s would have been too small.

“Thanks for today,” said Greece. “I enjoyed myself.”

“So did I,” England said truthfully.

“And thanks for this,” Greece added, holding up his cat. “I’ll be sure to treasure it.”

“It’s just a token.”

“But it’s a nice one.”

England paused, the uncertainty creeping back. “Well, good night. I’ll see you on Monday.”

“Wait.” Greece bent down, and took England aback by kissing him on the cheek. His lips were warm. England could smell the scent of his shampoo, he was so close. “Good night.”

England blushed for what must have been the twentieth time that day. He didn’t think the habit would be going away anytime soon.

 

End.


	4. Four

Title: Return  
Author: Triste  
Fandom: Hetalia  
Pairing: Greece/England  
Rating: PG  
Warnings: AU (Gakuen Hetalia)  
Status: Complete  
Disclaimer: Not mine

~~

Summer break was rapidly approaching, but before that came tests. Greece had suggested a study session, and England agreed. It wasn’t going to be held in the library, however, or even some other place appropriate for scholarly work. England had, in a fit of what could possibly have passed for insanity when he cast his mind back on the event, invited Greece to his room.

England was starting to regret the decision as he set about making things presentable (the school did employ staff who cleaned the dormitories regularly, but England insisted on doing his own cleaning because he couldn’t trust anyone else to do the job properly). His room, neat and tidy enough on most days, needed to be immaculate for his guest’s arrival, otherwise it would reflect badly on England as the host.

As much as he delighted keeping the place orderly and spotless, he’d never gone to so much effort for America or France, who frequently barged in without permission. This was different. He had to impress Greece with his good housekeeping skills.

A part of England couldn’t help thinking that maybe he was making too much fuss, but he had already come this far. Besides, cleaning when he was troubled by something made him feel better. And so, he redoubled his efforts, polishing his desk until he could see his face reflected in its surface, organising the textbooks and notes he would need, wiping down the windows and plumping up the pillows on his couch.

The sheets on his bed were fresh and still smelled pleasantly of the detergent he’d washed them in. England even ironed them to make sure they were free from creases. Then, because staring at the bed too long caused him to wonder whether he and Greece would end up on it together at some point in the future, England distracted himself by sweeping the hallway. It wouldn’t do to think perverted thoughts.

Greece had arranged to come over at midday but, well accustomed to his timekeeping habits, England didn’t expect him to appear until later. It only gave him more minutes to feel nervous with, but he concentrated instead by drawing up a plan of which subjects they would revise and in which order.

A knock on the door made him jump. England glanced in the mirror and, satisfied with his appearance, went to give his greetings. Greece had brought ice cream as a gift.

“I wasn’t sure which flavour you liked. Is strawberry okay?”

England assured him it was. The weather was warm, but not too warm. England had no doubt that would change within the coming weeks. Summer had never been his favourite month. He couldn’t handle the heat. It made him more short-tempered than usual.

Greece was the opposite. England had learnt that he had little tolerance for the extremes of winter. England wasn’t exactly fond of it either, but at least he was used to cold weather. Winter made him more alert and efficient. Summer seemed to drain him of energy and motivation. Maybe that was why Greece slept so much whenever the temperature soared.

Once the ice cream had been eaten, the study session began. First they compared notes. Greece’s handwriting was a bit of a mystery to England, and his notes were sometimes so detailed he’d failed to get everything down. His memory was excellent, though. He wasn’t particularly speedy when England quizzed him on different subjects, mulling his answers over first instead of giving them instantaneously as England would have done, but his responses were thorough and well thought out when he finally did respond.

An hour and a half later, Greece called for a break. Although England felt they could have gone on longer, he let Greece have his way. They’d been working hard, after all, and had made considerable progress.

He was just about to offer Greece a drink when Greece yawned widely and stretched his arms out.

“Time for a nap,” he announced.

England raised an eyebrow. “But it’s still early.”

“We both deserve a rest.”

With that, Greece moved himself from the desk to the bed. He patted the space beside him, his expression expectant.

“Are you telling me to join you?” England asked, incredulous.

Greece nodded. England blushed. The perverted thoughts were back.

“What are you waiting for?” Greece gave the mattress another pat. England coughed delicately.

“There’s not enough room for two.”

Greece lay down as if to demonstrate the opposite of England’s protest. The bed was only a single but, with some manoeuvring, an extra person could easily fit. There wouldn’t be much space between them, but it could be done.

Swallowing hard, England hesitated, and took a step toward the bed. Greece waited patiently for him to come closer. England licked his lips. Was it him, or had the atmosphere grown tense? No, it was probably his imagination. Greece was as relaxed as ever. England didn’t think he knew the meaning of the word tension.

It was just to sleep, he told himself. Nothing more. But his imagination was in danger of running away with itself. Because, as he was aware, sleeping wasn’t the only purpose a bed could hold.

England sat gingerly on the edge of the mattress. He could hear it creak under the additional weight. Greece continued to stare expectantly until England carefully lay next to him. He’d done his best to make sure they weren’t touching anywhere in spite of the lack of space, but it only earned him a frown for his efforts.

“That’s no good,” Greece said disapprovingly. “It should be more like this.”

He reached out to pull England closer. England’s instinct was to resist and squirm away, but Greece remained insistent. They were lying on their sides, Greece’s right harm resting heavy over England’s waist, England’s left arm trapped between them so that his palm was settled against Greece’s chest.

“There.” Greece sounded much happier. “That’s better.”

England didn’t hear him. He was on the verge of panic. He’d never been this close to someone else before. He wasn’t touchy-feely by nature, so he had no idea how to react to what Greece had just done.

For a while he focused on calming his breathing, but even when he managed to accomplish that task, his heart wouldn’t stop pounding. Greece had to be able to hear it. He could probably feel it they were lying so close.

If he did, he never commented. It might have had something to do with the fact that he’d already fallen asleep. England was envious of Greece’s ability to switch off as soon as his head hit the pillow. Unless he was really tired, it always took him ages to fall asleep.

Not that he would be getting much sleep in this position. Even with Greece having nodded off, England was just too conscious of everything. Greece’s warmth, scent and proximity were more than enough for England to find overwhelming. He had to concentrate on his breathing again to keep from being so on edge.

Eventually, England was able to think properly again. He wouldn’t ever understand these Mediterraneans and their love of siestas. It was still daytime. There was no way he could fall asleep while it was light, and even if he did, it would throw off his schedule. If he napped now, he wouldn’t sleep later that night.

He couldn’t figure out how Greece did it. He’d heard of power naps before, and that they were apparently supposed to boost brainpower and energy levels, but England didn’t believe it. It seemed like idleness to him.

Curiosity piqued, England gathered the courage to move his hand slightly over Greece’s chest. It was cramped and he couldn’t reach far, but he could feel the warmth of Greece’s skin through the thin fabric of his tee shirt. If England moved his fingers a little higher, he could actually feel that skin for himself, but he didn’t dare. Greece was still asleep and unaware of what was running through his mind. It would feel like England was taking an unfair advantage.

Instead, he settled for simply looking. He could see Greece’s collarbones peeking out from under his shirt, and further up, his Adam’s apple. England’s fingers twitched with the sudden urge to touch it. He could kiss it, he realised, to find out what it tasted like. Then he berated himself for being so dirty-minded. He’d been spending too much time with France.

France would never have shown such restraint if he’d been in England’s position, but then he was a morality free zone. He had no qualms about doing things to people in their sleep, as England discovered one time when he was sick with a cold. He’d woken, groggy with fever, to find France naked and in bed with him. It was amazing how he’d dredged up the strength to beat him in spite of his illness, but the memory left a bad taste in his mouth.

Pushing France firmly from his mind, England let the sound of Greece’s steady breathing lull him into closing his eyes. He would allow himself a few minutes more, he decided. Then break time would be over and they could go back to doing something more suitable, like studying.

He’d only been asleep a short while, or so it seemed, when England awoke to the sound of humming and rustling. He didn’t immediately come to his senses, but when he did, he noticed that it wasn’t Greece making any noise.

There was someone else in the room.

England tensed. He had his back to whoever it was, so the only way to see them would be by turning around. Was it a burglar? No, a burglar wouldn’t be making so much noise by singing the lyrics to ‘Hot Stuff’ under their breath.

It didn’t sound like France or America. America would be making even more of a racket, and France would hardly let England slumber so peacefully when he could be waking him up and making fun.

There was only one way to find out.

Slowly, as quietly as he could, England slipped out from under Greece’s arm and rolled over to see the fridge door open (one of the perks of being the student council, along with getting a room to himself, and he just couldn’t start the day right without drinking a cup of tea first thing in the morning) with the mystery person’s backside sticking out of it.

They didn’t seem too dangerous. Moreover, they were defenceless. If England was sneaky enough, he could attack without them noticing. Honour be damned, he had a thief to deal with.

England grabbed the nearest weapon he had to hand, which happened to be his alarm clock, but it was still blunt and heavy enough to hit the intruder on the head with. Only hard enough to stun them a bit, mind. England wasn’t cruel enough to kill.

Skilled in the art of stealth, it was no trouble at all for England to slink noiselessly out of bed and over to where the thief was knelt. He was just about to strike when the stranger turned round and saw him.

It was Rome, the History teacher. “Yo!” he said brightly, munching on a Kit Kat.

England let out a sigh of relief. Then his anger took over. “What the hell are you doing here?” he snapped. “And what are you doing in my fridge?”

“I was hungry,” Rome replied, talking with his mouth full. It was England’s biggest pet peeve, and a habit he’d never been able to wean America off. “There’s always something to snack on at your place.”

“That’s not the point!” There was a throbbing in England’s temple that told him he would be developing a terrible headache very soon. It was one of the many side effects of being surrounded by idiots. “Why couldn’t you have gone to the cafeteria instead?”

“It’s better here,” claimed Rome. “I get free food and entertainment.”

“You’re abusing your authority,” England warned.

“That’s what Germany says. It doesn’t stop me from visiting him at three o’ clock in the morning.”

England knew the stories. Rome had a habit of turning up in people’s room uninvited and unannounced. It didn’t matter if the doors were locked. He had access to master keys.

England wasted no time with politeness. It didn’t work on Rome anyway. “Go home,” he ordered.

“But I’m bored,” Rome protested. “And I know how lonely you get without me.” He leaned over and patted England’s head. “There, there. Don’t cry. You used to do that all the time when you were little. Everyone bullied you. You would cry into my manly bosom because nobody liked you and you didn’t have any friends. You still don’t, but things have changed. You’re the one doing the bullying now.”

England glared. He should have hit Rome with the alarm clock after all. He would have been spared his inane babbling if he had.

Then he remembered Greece. This wasn’t the kind of thing he wanted him to be listening to, but thankfully for England, Greece had barely moved a muscle. Rome followed his gaze and grinned.

“So, you guys really are sleeping together,” he commented. “I knew about the rumours, of course, but I didn’t believe them at first. ‘But England is too emotionally stunted to form normal sexual relationships with other people,’ I told Germania. I thought for sure that you’d be like Germany and get yourself arrested someday for being such a pervert.”

“Says the biggest pervert of all,” England muttered.

It was meant to be an insult. Rome took it as a compliment. “I was going to set you and Germany up, you know,” he said conversationally. “I didn’t like the idea of him doing evil things to my poor, adorable Italy at first, so I thought I’d get you two together instead. You would have been a good match. He’s a sadist, and you’re a masochist. Italy would have been safe from Germany’s clutches. But you know what? I watched them both together one day and then I realised: they’re in love!”

England wanted to argue, but there was no point. Once Rome got going there was no stopping him.

“Yes, love!” Rome continued. “It can make a man as strong as a lion and as weak as a kitten. It’s the best and most effective weapon to use against your enemy. Love is fabulous! Love is blind! Love is–”

“I don’t care,” England interrupted rudely. “Leave now before I have you reported.”

Not that it would do much good. World W Gakuen was famous for attracting weirdoes. There was no discrimination. Staff and students alike were sorely lacking in things such as common sense, decency and consideration. Rome was no exception.

“You have good taste,” he declared, slapping England on the back. “You could have done worse than Greece. Still, if you think he’s a looker, you should see his mother. She’s gorgeous. I’ve never seen a more beautiful woman before. Except for maybe Egypt’s mother, that is.”

England rolled his eyes. Even bluntness had little effect.

“I already mentioned the wonder of love, didn’t I? Sex is even better. Have you done it yet? I hope you have. Germania owes me money. I bet him you’d lose your virginity before Germany did. I knew you’d be the first to step into the world of adulthood. I had faith in you!”

“Don’t gamble on students’ privacy!” England shouted, not bothering to hold his voice down for fear of waking Greece. “And anyway, I haven’t–”

He cut himself off before he could finish, his face flaming red. Rome was nosy enough. He didn’t need any extra gossip material.

Even with that precaution, Rome was able to fill in the blanks. He gawked at England in dismay and disappointment. It was annoying.

“You haven’t lost your virginity yet?” he gasped, shaking his head sadly. “I don’t understand young people. It’s the same with Germany. My Italy is the cutest little thing ever, right? He’s irresistible, isn’t he? He would make a great partner for anyone who wooed him, yes? That Germany is given opportunity after opportunity, and yet he refuses to make his move. What’s wrong with the youth of today? I can’t comprehend it. Why are they all so intent on saving themselves? It wasn’t like that when I was a teenager. People were falling over themselves to have sex with each other! There was no reserve back then!”

“Don’t encourage people to be so promiscuous!”

But Rome was off again. “Listen here. A student’s life should revolve around four things: eating, sleeping, fighting and sex!”

He hadn’t added the most important thing to the list, England noted, which would be studying. Without doing that, students would be doomed to failure. As far as Rome was concerned, it obviously didn’t matter as long as they were having sex.

“Remember,” Rome went on, “all sex has to be safe. You have to know how to protect yourself.” He dug around in the pocket out of his pants and held a condom out to England. “Here,” he said, with an air of great importance. “I bequeath this to you, my boy. Use it wisely.”

“I don’t want it!” England snapped.

“Then I’ll give it to Greece. He’ll know what to do with it.” Rome scooted over to the bed before England could stop him, shook Greece awake, and passed him the condom. “For you,” he sang.

“Thanks,” said Greece. And he went straight back to sleep.

England’s head was really hurting him now. The study session didn’t matter anymore. All he wanted was the safe return of his sanity.

 

End.


	5. Five

Title: Stay  
Author: Triste  
Fandom: Hetalia  
Pairing: Greece/England  
Rating: NC-17  
Warnings: AU (Gakuen Hetalia)  
Status: Complete  
Disclaimer: Not mine

~~

School was out. Summer break had begun. England was confused. It had been six weeks and seventeen days since the day of his and Greece’s date. Their relationship had yet to progress beyond simply spending time together. England couldn’t understand it. Wasn’t it about time for them to be doing other things by now? They hadn’t kissed or... or... anything. It was embarrassing and exciting to think about what they could be doing, but disappointing and frustrating because they wouldn’t.

It wasn’t like England had his hands full with student council business. Most people went home for the holidays anyway, with only a few opting to stay behind on campus. His homework had been taken care of straight away, leaving him with too much free time on his hands.

There was nothing at all stopping him and Greece from going on another date, this time without America or Japan for moral support, but Greece hadn’t expressed any desire in doing so.

It left England insecure. Greece was usually the one to make suggestions and decisions, while England agreed and went along with them. England didn’t mind that much, but he couldn’t help wondering if somehow, somewhere, something had gone wrong.

Maybe it was because Greece didn’t find him interesting enough, or maybe it was because of England’s nagging habit. England was well aware of his less appealing personality traits, but he couldn’t help being the way that he was. Greece had never been concerned before, so it seemed odd for him to change his mind so suddenly.

Maybe he wasn’t attractive enough, England thought as he stared at his reflection. France took great joy in teasing him for his lack of style, and had done since they were children. England could remember growing his hair long once in an attempt to look like the more fashionable France, and how badly that had turned out.

He’d been gullible back then, but he wasn’t any less self-conscious now.

Maybe he should have made more of an effort to look good. That was what people did when they started dating, wasn’t it? Prussia could stay inside the bathroom for hours primping and preening and making himself look (in his words) as “awesome and irresistible as humanly possible”.

Maybe it was a confidence issue. Prussia was full of it, though it was often misplaced. America had more confidence than he knew what to do with, and even France was overflowing with the stuff.

England couldn’t compete.

It was possible Greece didn’t like him that way after all, that England had gotten confused along the way and misunderstood his behaviour. He didn’t think he’d earned the title of partner or significant other, or even as one half of a couple. There was nothing overtly romantic about their relationship. They’d done what most friends did, by hanging out on weekends and studying. There had been that one time where they’d been in bed together, and while England didn’t think many friendships extended quite that far, nothing had happened between them.

Maybe their relationship had been one of ‘something more,' once, but now Greece was having regrets and trying to put a little distance between himself and England. It could have been his way of subtly saying that they should spend some time apart.

England had seen it before in soap operas. Trial separations, they were called. When people were tired of each other, they didn’t want to be together anymore.

He huffed, indignant. Greece could have just told him if that was how he’d been feeling. Even an email or a text message would have been better than leaving England to figure the situation out on his own. Not saying anything at all was cowardly. It didn’t matter how much pain and anger it caused, letting England know where he stood would be the decent thing to do. Leading him on like this was just cruel.

If England had been calmer and more rational, it would have prevented him from going into a sulk and reacting in the most childish way possible, by deciding that if Greece wasn’t talking to him, then he wasn’t going to talk to Greece, but he was hurt and upset and unprepared to give Greece the benefit of the doubt.

Days passed by. The weather grew hotter and England’s mood more irritable. America, oblivious to the warnings signs, approached him one morning at breakfast.

“Where’s Greece?” he asked.

“I don’t know,” England answered. It should have been clear from the sound of his tone that he was unwilling to say anything further, but America had never been good at taking a hint.

“That’s weird. I thought you guys were an item? If that’s true, then why are you avoiding each other?”

England shrugged wordlessly. America smirked.

“Don’t tell me you’ve split up already. Poor Greece. I guess he couldn’t stand being with you a moment longer.”

England bit his lip and got to his feet, turning his back on America and leaving his food untouched.

“Hey!” America caught his shoulder to keep him in place. “I was kidding. I didn’t mean it. Don’t get mad.”

England tried to glare and failed. He was too miserable to lose his temper.

America leaned in closer. “Did you guys have a fight?” he said quietly.

“No,” England said, tired.

“Then what?” America seemed baffled. “Something must have happened.”

“Nothing happened.”

“Fine. Be that way. It’s not like I care.”

America was offended. It was so easy to hurt someone else’s feelings, England realised. It didn’t matter if you used words or not. A little effort could cause a lot of suffering.

England forced a smile. “It’s fine,” he told America. “Don’t worry.”

“I’m not worrying!” America blustered. “Who’d be worried about you?”

He always had been a terrible liar.

This time, England’s smile was genuine.

“It’s okay,” he said. And then, because he knew how much it got on America’s nerves, he reached up and ruffled his hair. “Idiot.”

It was more a term of endearment than an insult, but America pouted anyway.

“The one who says idiot first is the idiot.”

~~

Feeling slightly better, England went off in search for something to do. The sports facilities were available, but there wasn’t much that he could do on his own. A game of tennis would have been ideal for taking his mind off matters if only he had an opponent to play against.

He should have asked America, but it was probably too late for that now.

England sighed. He supposed he could go the library, but he wasn’t really in the mood for reading at the moment.

It was strange. He’d never minded being alone before. He always found plenty of ways to keep himself occupied, but then Greece had appeared and changed England’s solitary lifestyle. Now he found himself wishing for company rather than avoiding it. He wondered if he could ever go back to being how he once had been. Then he bumped into the very person he’d been causing him to be so lonely in the first place.

He and Greece stared at each other for a moment, neither of them knowing what to say. Greece was the first to speak.

“I was searching for you,” he said.

“Oh,” said England, his heart skipping a beat in spite of himself. Then he reminded himself to stay cautious. It didn’t necessarily mean Greece had good news in store.

“Are you busy?” Greece wanted to know.

“No,” England replied. It was a struggle to come up with any more than one word answers. It was as if his brain had ceased to function properly. It could only be Greece’s fault. Only he had the power to affect England so strongly.

“Is it okay if we talk?”

“Yes.” England had done it again. He made another attempt. “I believe that would be appropriate.”

Great. Now he’d gone formal. It was another of his bad habits. He did it whenever he was fighting hard to prevent his true emotions from being seen, by putting on a stiff upper lip.

He made tea when they went to his room. Greece chose to sit by the desk instead of England’s bed. That was unusual. He wasn’t slouching, either. His bad posture had always made England want to order him to straighten up and sit properly instead of leaning all over the place. It wasn’t good for his back.

Still, the fact that Greece was sitting so properly couldn’t bode well.

England passed him a cup. Greece accepted it with thanks.

They drank in silence. It was as awkward as that rainy day in the student council room, when their bizarre courting ritual had started.

“Well?” England prompted. “What would you like to discuss?”

He waited, knowing it took time for Greece to formulate a response.

“I wanted to ask what was wrong,” he said.

“I don’t understand,” confessed England.

“Something isn’t right,” Greece stated. “It’s... different. *You’re* different.” He paused, taking another moment to think, and then stared straight at England. “Do I make you unhappy?”

It was an unexpected question. “No,” said England. “No, you don’t.”

“Then why are you being so distant?”

England frowned. He didn’t like the accusation, so he turned it back on Greece. “You’re the one who’s being distant,” he argued.

“There is a reason for that.” Greece paused again. England’s heart sank. This was it. The moment of truth had arrived. “I wanted to give you space. I thought that I’d been pushing you too hard, so I decided to let you take things at your own pace instead.”

England blinked. “That’s it?”

“That’s it,” Greece confirmed.

There was more silence for a while before England burst out laughing. First he felt relieved. Then he felt ridiculous. He’d gotten upset over nothing.

That aside, he supposed Greece had a point. England could have been more proactive. It shouldn’t have been Greece’s job to initiate everything. This was why communication was so important, he reminded himself. Not talking led to suspicions and misunderstandings. It was so simple.

“I hope you’re not laughing at me,” said Greece.

“Of course I’m not.”

It was like a weight had been lifted from England’s shoulders. He was happy, England realised, surprised. He wasn’t used to feeling that way. He wanted to tell Greece, but it was difficult to get the right words out.

He had to be more honest, with Greece and with himself.

“Before we continue,” said England, all seriousness, “I want to set some ground rules. There aren’t many, so remember them well. I’m monogamous by nature, so that means you’re not allowed to cheat on me. If you do, I’ll curse you.”

“That sounds fair."

“And I don’t like public displays of affection, so no groping me in front of other people.”

Greece nodded.

“No silly pet names, either. I hate that stuff. It’s stupid.”

Another nod.

“Right. Um, that’s it.” England was sure he could come up with more in time, but for now he had other issues to attend to.

He walked over to Greece, stopped in front of him and took a deep breath. His was trying so hard to look like he knew what he was doing by giving the impression he was in control, but his heart was pounding away in his chest.

“Close your eyes,” he instructed.

Greece did. Because he was sitting and England was standing, England had to lean down to kiss him.

The kiss was light and tentative, just the soft press of England’s mouth against Greece’s, but it was nice, so England did it again, parting his lips a little and angling his head so that their mouths could fit more firmly together. Then Greece did something with his tongue that made England moan, and his knees nearly gave out right there and then.

“I’ve been wanting to do that,” he confessed when they drew apart.

“Me too,” said Greece. “We should have done it sooner.”

Yes, thought England. They really should. They probably would have, if only he hadn’t held them back. He’d wasted so much time being cautious and confused when he could have been experiencing so much more.

In short, they had a lot to make up for.

England resolved not to be uptight and restrained for once, but to just let go. There were other things he’d wanted to do with Greece, apart from kissing. Touching was one. England remembered looking at Greece’s collarbones and wondering what they would feel like under his fingers, so he indulged himself by finding out. Greece made it even easier by shrugging out of his tee shirt and leaving England spoilt for choice over where to touch next.

He had the sense to lock the door before they moved to the bed. He didn’t have time to feel embarrassed because Greece was the one kissing him now, and he was eager where England had been gentle, all warmth and pleasure and intensity until England was breathless and gasping.

His hands, restless and greedy all of a sudden, ran over Greece’s arms and back, between his shoulder blades and down his spine, wanting to touch wherever they could reach. Greece seemed to like it because he made little noises against England’s mouth when they kissed.

England wanted to be touched too, wanted to feel Greece’s hands on his body, and then Greece was unfastening his belt buckle and popping open the buttons on his pants. It wasn’t where England had expected him to go, but he certainly wasn’t complaining.

He had already been half-hard before Greece touched him, but he soon became fully erect when Greece began to palm him through the fabric of his underwear.

“Oh,” England said faintly, his head falling back on the pillow as he tried to gulp in air. He couldn’t seem to get enough of it. It made him feel light-headed. “Oh,” he kept saying, “oh, oh, oh...”

He somehow managed to wriggle the rest of the way out of his clothes until he was naked from the waist down. Greece’s fingers were curled around his cock, not too tight, but not tight enough. He had big hands. England wondered why he hadn’t noticed that before.

It was too much, too fast, too intense. He didn’t hear the sound of Greece’s voice at first.

“Stop,” Greece was telling him. “Stop. Wait.”

But England didn’t want to. He whined when Greece released him, tried to scowl his annoyance. “What?” he panted.

“Wait,” Greece said again.

He was searching for something. England didn’t care. He just wanted Greece to touch him again.

Finally, Greece did, but it was different. His fingers were slick, and there was no friction this time as he resumed his task. It was petroleum jelly, England realised, the stuff that he kept handy as a balm for his lips.

He would have laughed if only it didn’t feel so incredible, but then Greece’s fingers moved down lower, over his balls, and England tensed. He wasn’t ready for full on sex yet, but that didn’t appear to be Greece’s intention.

“Shh,” Greece said, kissing his way across England’s jaw line. “Shh.”

And then his hands were back on England’s cock, tugging and twisting and making England writhe underneath him. He’d done this before for himself, not that he would willingly admit to it, but it was nothing like how he felt when Greece touched him. It was so much better this way.

England, who had always believed in returning favours, decided to go one better afterwards when Greece offered him the jelly.

“I don’t need it,” he said, still somewhat weak and shaky from his orgasm, but it didn’t take much effort to get between Greece’s legs and take hold of his cock.

It didn’t stop him from being nervous, though, and with good reason. He’d never done this before. He wasn’t sure if he would even be able to do it properly, but he couldn’t back down now.

He started by moving his fingers along the length of Greece’s cock, just getting used to the feel of it in his hand before bringing his lips to the tip. Greece gasped and jerked. He was trembling with the effort of staying still. England smiled. He hadn’t even done anything yet and already he’d had this much of an effect. It made him feel strong and powerful. It made him want to find out what other noises he could get Greece to make.

Even so, he had to go slowly, pressing little kisses over the tip and darting his tongue out to lick. Gradually he grew more daring, keeping one hand firm around the base of Greece’s cock while sucking the head of it into his mouth. Greece was getting louder now, especially when England decided to experiment with his tongue.

It was dizzying and exhilarating, and over almost too soon. England wished he hadn’t been quite so inexperienced. He didn’t spit or swallow at the end of it, but choked and made a mess of himself and the sheets.

Greece found it funny. “Practise makes perfect,” he claimed.

England merely sulked. He was sure he would have liked it better if he’d been more impressive. He was also more interested in cleaning up than snuggling. Greece was already well on the way to sleep. Determined for England to join him, he snaked an arm around his waist to hold him in place.

England cursed and struggled a bit but Greece’s grip was secure.

“I won’t let go,” Greece murmured.

England allowed himself a small smile.

He didn't really want to leave anyway.

 

End.


	6. Six

Title: Marked  
Author: Triste  
Fandom: Hetalia  
Pairing: Greece/England  
Rating: PG-13  
Warnings: AU (Gakuen Hetalia)  
Status: Complete  
Disclaimer: Not mine

~~

Greece was unhappy. England didn’t think he’d ever seen him so angry before. Greece’s disgruntled expression was nothing like the ones England made whenever he flew into an apoplectic rage, but then he did have a notoriously short fuse. It didn’t take much to upset him. Greece, however, was different. His temper wasn’t nearly as quick to flare up as England’s, but even his limits could be, and were occasionally, tested. Then he would react like a cat with its fur standing on end, bristling at the person who had provoked him.

Turkey, as usual, was the one who brought this side out of Greece, but for once he hadn’t done anything to antagonise him on purpose. England had approached him on student council business, and the conversation had been perfectly civil until Greece appeared. Distressed, he forced himself in between the two of them, keeping England at a safe distance from Turkey and began to pick a fight. Turkey, never one to run away from conflict, retaliated immediately with much shouting and cursing. England, unused to the playing the role of peacemaker, tried and failed to break up the argument. He couldn’t make his voice heard above Turkey’s bellows (the “your mom” insults had grown old a long time ago, not that it stopped Turkey from continuing to use them).

The disappearing thumb trick was no use. Even threatening to force feed them both with haggis, the most disgusting dish he was capable of cooking (and England had quite a repertoire) couldn’t get them to stop. He was good at scaring people with his food, especially if they happened to be gourmets, but Greece and Turkey were far too busy with their verbal battle of words to be terrified into submission by the thought of being served a dish containing the internal organs of a sheep that had been simmered in its own stomach.

Eventually Greece decided he’d had enough. He grabbed England by the wrist and dragged him away, ignoring his protests, and didn’t release him until they reached the nearest bathroom. He forced England into the nearest stall and locked it, before turning on him with a frown.

“What?” said England, defensive and more than a little bit irked by the rough treatment he’d received.

“Did he touch you?” asked Greece, his voice low and intense.

“Of course not,” England replied, refusing to feel intimidated. “We were just talking.”

Greece leaned in and, to England’s surprised, sniffed him. It only left him looking more disgruntled. "You smell like Turkey."

England gave a disbelieving huff. That was just silly. Nobody in the world had a nose that sensitive. Greece might act like a cat sometimes, but that didn’t mean he actually was one.

“Don’t be so absurd,” he said. “I’m leaving.”

But Greece caught his arm and held him firmly in place before England could go anywhere. Greece’s grip was tight enough to bruise, but then he noticed England’s narrowed eyes and gritted teeth. His annoyance seemed to fade away completely, his hold and his expression gentling.

“This won’t do,” he said sadly.

“What won’t?” England sighed. If he humoured Greece, he might go back to being his usual easy-going and somewhat spacey self. Then England could return to the student council duties he’d been prevented from fulfilling.

Greece gave him another sniff. “I have to fix you,” he told England, his tone solemn. “I can’t leave you as you are now.”

And with that, he draped himself heavily over England and wound his arms around him. England staggered a little under the additional weight, blushing and sputtering as Greece rubbed against him, nuzzling his cheek against England’s insistently and running his hands over his back.

“What on earth are you *doing*?” England gasped out.

“Getting rid of his scent by replacing it with mine,” Greece replied, matter-of-fact.

The situation was beyond absurd. It was now officially insane.

Maybe it wasn’t really happening, England thought. Maybe he was just dreaming that Greece had trapped him in a toilet and was molesting him because he’d talked to Turkey.

No, that couldn’t be it. Even his dreams weren’t this outlandish.

Besides, England could feel everything Greece did to him far too vividly. The effect his proximity had was all the more tangible.

“Stop,” he ordered, hating himself for sounding so small and lost. He bit back a moan when Greece moved against him, took a deep breath and made another attempt. “You have to stop. If you don’t–”

England cut himself off with a groan that he couldn’t contain this time, as his hips jerked against his will. He couldn’t help it. He was getting too turned on. Greece was quick to notice, a pleased, lazy smile tugging at his lips. He nudged one of his thighs between England’s, and England swore at him under his breath as he ground down against it.

“This is all your fault,” he accused, his breath hitching in his throat when he felt Greece’s hands on his ass.

“No, it’s not,” said Greece. “It’s Turkey’s. He started it.”

England wasn’t capable of dealing with Greece’s childishness at the moment, nor was he impressed by his impertinence. They were in a toilet, for heaven’s sake. It was as unhygienic as it was unromantic. More importantly, anyone could walk in and hear them.

Greece clearly didn’t care. England wanted to protest and call him an idiot among other things, horny pervert being one of them, though he was just as much of a pervert as Greece could be, not that he would ever admit to it, but he couldn’t stop making noises whenever Greece touched him. It was stupid and embarrassing, and the noises were echoing. He didn’t want to listen to them anymore, so he fisted a hand in Greece’s tie and hauled him in for a kiss.

It was better that way, and it muffled the sound of England’s moans. On top of that, it felt good. England had learned that Greece had a talented mouth, not only for the telling of ancient myths and legends, but also for other, more pleasurable things. The way he kissed made England want to melt right into him.

It didn’t matter anymore that Greece was being an idiot, or that England was an even bigger one for indulging him like this. He was determined to finish what they’d started.

There was one benefit of Greece’s preference for never wearing his uniform properly. England would have chastised him for looking so untidy if only his hands weren’t so occupied with getting under the shirt that Greece didn’t tuck into his pants like he was supposed to. It was as if he’d made it easy for England to reach his bare skin on purpose, because he didn’t complain when England traced his fingers over the muscles of his stomach.

Greece was definitely left satisfied later, although the afterglow wore off all too soon for England when Greece sniffed him for the third time.

“Much better,” he declared. “You smell good.”

England didn’t give a damn. He only cared about reaching the privacy of his own room so he could get clean. “I need to shower,” he muttered.

Greece shook his head in dismay. “You can’t do that. It would wash away the scent.”

Greece may have been intelligent by nature, but he didn’t possess much in the way of common sense. England wasn’t sure how he’d managed to forget something like that, but he found himself reminded of it when Greece caught his sleeve before he could escape.

“I’m going,” he said stubbornly.

“And I’m coming with you,” said Greece. “You might bump into Turkey again.”

England certainly hoped not. He’d had quite enough of being marked for one day.

 

End.


	7. Seven

Title: Deviate  
Author: Triste  
Fandom: Hetalia  
Pairing: Greece/England  
Rating: PG  
Warnings: AU (Gakuen Hetalia)  
Status: Complete  
Disclaimer: Not mine

~~

To England’s disappointment and annoyance, nobody ever came to the student council room with the intention of making themselves useful and helping out. Greece was there, but only to nap. America had also turned up, but only because he was bored. He’d dragged Japan along with him to make things more interesting but, as usual, America was noisy enough for two people. Even when England was busy trying to do some work, he couldn’t just keep still and sit quietly.

“What’s this?” he asked, distracted from his in depth and enthusiastic discussion on Japan’s latest manga epic by the cardboard box to the left of England’s desk.

“It’s an anonymous donation to the cosplay club,” said England. “Since you’re obviously free for the moment, why don’t you go and deliver it for me?”

America picked the box up and shook it curiously. “I wonder what’s inside.”

“Never you mind,” England told him. “Are you going to deliver it or not?”

“I’d rather find out what the contents are.” America gave the box another shake. “Come on, let’s open it!”

“Leave it alone,” England ordered. “It doesn’t belong to you.”

“I never said it did,” America replied brightly. “I just want to know what’s in it.” England muttered something about nosiness, not that America was listening. “Besides, it could be dangerous. It’s my duty as a hero to protect my fellow students from any potential threat. You never know. It could be a bomb!”

“Somehow, I doubt that,” England said dryly.

“Better safe than sorry,” America argued.

Greece raised his hand. “I agree with England,” he said. “Some boxes aren’t supposed to be opened. Look what happened with Pandora.”

“But it’s for the cosplay club, is it not?” Japan pointed out, bringing some much-needed sanity into the conversation. “I assume it would contain outfits or materials in which to create them with.”

England sighed. Finally, someone with a bit of common sense. America, however, remained unconvinced.

“Well, I guess there’s only one way of finding out.” Ignoring England’s protests, he tore off the tape and pulled back the flaps. His face fell upon seeing exactly what the box contained. “Kitty ears,” he said, wrinkling his nose. “That was kind of anticlimactic.”

“No, America-san,” said Japan, his eyes shining. “You are mistaken. This is a wonderful treasure! Cat ears are one of the staples of turn-on culture. You must not underestimate their true potential.”

America didn’t look so sure, but he picked a pair up for himself and put them on his head. “What do you think? Do they suit me?”

England rolled his eyes. He thought America looked downright daft. Japan did not seem to share his opinion, but then things like this always made him rather peculiar. America called it ‘fanboy mode,’ whatever that was.

Greece, now properly awake and alert, wandered over in interest. He picked out a pair of cat ears for himself, put them on and then turned to England. “How do I look?” he asked.

England bit back the response he would have liked to make, which was, “Like an idiot,” but because he didn’t want to hurt Greece’s feelings when it came to something he held particularly close to his heart, feline lover that he was, he instead stated the obvious by saying, “Like a cat.”

Greece seemed pleased enough with that. Even Japan got in on the act, although England shuddered with a sense of impending doom when the three of them turned to stare at him expectantly.

“What?” he said, suspicious.

“Well?” America prompted. “Aren’t you going to join in? You’ll be the odd one out if you don’t. You’ll feel all left out and lonely.”

England scowled. He wasn’t going to let America taunt him into doing something stupid.

Surprisingly, Japan joined in by applying further pressure. “I would very much like to see you in cat ears, England-san. Nothing would please me more.”

England doubted that, but then Greece gave his input.

“I want to see it too,” he said. “It would make me really happy.”

England’s scowl faded. On the one hand, he felt resentful for being manipulated into something that he didn’t want to do, but on the other, he couldn’t resist Greece when he was making that face.

He was still convinced he would look as foolish as the rest of them, but although he hated to admit it, America had been right. He didn’t like being excluded, and while he had long since grown used to the feeling of loneliness, there was something appealing about being a part of a collection, silly or otherwise.

Even so, it didn’t make matters any less awkward. America may have had no shame in putting on something so embarrassing, but it didn’t mean that the same went for England. Unlike America, he wasn’t thick-skinned and oblivious to everything that didn’t involve himself. He couldn’t shrug off being the subject of someone else’s ridicule, which was why he fought with France so much.

“No,” he said after a moment’s pause. “I won’t do it. You’ll only laugh at me.”

Greece actually pouted at that. “But I want to see.” He held a pair of cat ears out to England, his expression hopeful. “Please?” he added.

At least he was asking nicely, but England continued to dither. “Fine,” he relented. “But I’ll be taking them straight back off as soon as I’ve put them on.”

There was an air of great anticipation as England accepted the kitty ears from Greece. He hadn’t thought that the situation could get anymore ridiculous, but that was before his fellow students had begun to look at him the same way the subjects of a royal would do at their coronation, only instead of a crown, England was about to don what he considered to be nothing more than fetish wear.

Gingerly, hesitantly, he placed the cat ears onto his head. He had no idea how he must look (like a prat, he assumed), but it didn’t stop him from turning immediately red as soon as the accessory was in place.

Greece made an “ooh” noise, Japan lifted a hand to his mouth (probably to hide his laughter, England thought sourly) and America grinned.

“Come on, then,” he said, clapping his hands. “Say meow!”

England bit his lip, averted his gaze so that he wouldn’t have to look at anyone before stuttering out in a very small voice, “M-meow.”

America laughed gleefully. Japan made a choking sound and moved his hand up to his nose, his free hand fumbling in his pocket for a handkerchief. Greece’s usual sleepy expression had been replaced by a more predatory-looking one. England was starting to wish he’d never gone through with this.

“England-san,” Japan said weakly (his white handkerchief was stained with spots of red, England noticed, vaguely alarmed by the reaction), giving the thumbs-up sign. “Good job.”

England didn’t know quite what Japan meant by that, but he supposed it was safe to assume that he was being praised. For what, exactly, he hadn’t figured out yet, but at least America had stopped laughing long enough for concern to take over.

“Jeez, are you okay?” he asked Japan anxiously. “You’re bleeding!”

“I’m fine,” said Japan, his voice nasally. “I just wasn’t prepared for such a powerful display of moe. I’m afraid the potent combination of innocent and erotic was simply too much for me to handle. England-san certainly is formidable.”

Now England had absolutely no idea what Japan was talking about. It sounded like a compliment, but for some reason he didn’t feel too flattered.

“We need to get you to the nurse’s office,” America said. Japan nodded, moved to follow him, and stumbled. America offered his arm. “Here, hold on. That’s it.” He glanced back over his shoulder at England and Greece. “We’ll see you guys later.”

He and Japan were both still wearing the cat ears when they left. England made a mental note to recover them safely later. Then he remembered with a start that they weren’t the only ones. He had yet to remove the pair that he’d put on.

Before he could rectify that, Greece stepped in and began to pet him. England indulged him for a few seconds until saying, “All right, that’s enough playing around. It’s about time we got rid of these things.”

“But I like them,” Greece protested mildly. “They’re cute.”

England sighed. Greece kept stroking his head. “They’re not for our own purposes, you know.”

“It wouldn’t hurt to borrow them for a while.”

Greece had a point. The box was full of kitty ears. One or two temporarily missing pairs weren’t enough to cause upset, as long as they were eventually returned. Again, England reminded himself to chase America up later to get back what he’d taken.

A sudden flash brought England out of his thoughts to find that Greece had just snapped a picture of him with his cell phone camera.

“In order to preserve the memory,” he said.

“Delete it,” England ordered, bristling at having a picture taken (and while wearing something so embarrassing, no less) without his consent. “Delete it *now*.”

Greece smiled serenely. “I will if you make it worth my while.”

“Are you blackmailing me into doing kinky cat-eared things with you?”

“If that’s what it takes to get you away from your work, then yes.”

England would have been impressed by Greece’s deviousness if only he hadn’t been on the receiving end of it, but he was willing enough to accept the challenge as long as it meant getting his own back.

 

End.


End file.
